


the many stars that guide us

by twistedingenue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Other, Slow Build, eventual OT3, sit back and enjoy the ride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-16 06:26:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1335397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedingenue/pseuds/twistedingenue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"One day Bucky, you and Nat are going to stop trying to set me up." Steve says, sweat soaked from what has to be at least a full 90 minutes on the treadmill. It's a shit grey and rainy day outside and neither Steve or Bucky are really up to running out there. They've had enough mud for a lifetime, they'd rather avoid it if they can.</p><p>They can, of course, because Stark has a heart of gold and pockets to match.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"One day Bucky, you and Nat are going to stop trying to set me up." Steve says, sweat soaked from what has to be at least a full 90 minutes on the treadmill. It's a shit grey and rainy day outside and neither Steve or Bucky are really up to running out there. They've had enough mud for a lifetime, they'd rather avoid it if they can.

They can, of course, because Stark has a heart of gold and pockets to match.

"That's because you don't got the guts to ask anyone on your own," Bucky retorts with a snort.

"I've got plenty of guts," Steve rolls his eyes and wipes his face with a towel.

"Most of the time. Jump out of airplanes, sure. Ask a girl out, hell no. I don't get it, most a woman is going to say no. What you got guts about is the things that can kill you." Bucky nods his head towards some of the free weights, "Give me a spot, will ya?" You still got to work the living arm, still got to make sure it can work on it’s own and not just rely on the mechanics. Everything’s still got to work.

"It's not about the no, not anymore, not really. When we were kids, yeah, the rejection was pretty high on why I didn't go for it," Steve says, "It's about what comes after. What happens next."

"What, falling for someone?" Bucky scoffs, "Are you listening too much to Tasha and her blasé pessimism about relationships? Look, she's wrong." And it hurts that she's wrong and that she holds onto those beliefs. Maybe someday someone is going to break through to her again. He doesn't hold his breath that it's going to be him, though. One thing Bucky's learned, it's that time is never on his side. "She's wrong. Love is a debt you pay back with grief."

"Right, that makes it sound a lot better." Steve starts to shut down into himself, his eyes turning dark, "I've done my share of grief, Bucky."

"It's not a finite thing," but he knows Steve is thinking of Peggy, of taking that closer step just too late for it to be any good. She's still alive, old and well-loved in a nursing home, but it might as well be an impenetrable wall for Steve. "We've always got more." Bucky says, though it dies a little on his lips.

Steve looks at him strangely, a look Bucky just doesn't understand and can't read, “Love or grief?” he shakes his head, and when he looks back up, it’s the same Steve who can rile him up like no one else, "Who is Nat suggesting this time?"

"Well, she still thinks the girl from accounting is a good bet for you." Bucky lofts, "Although, the amount of women she'd like parade around you is longer than I thought. Like there's that many women that are...." In the space of Bucky's breath as he lifts, Steve's head snaps to the door, tracking the path of the people who just entered. 

Oh. He feels his heart fall just a little bit. “....Anywhere near good enough for you, asshole.” he finishes, but the bluster is gone from the words.

Bucky really doubts that Steve has any sort of intentions on Jane, so it has to be Darcy that catches his eye. Darcy’s been around the past couple of weeks, summer break, she said over a group dinner when she and Jane came into town. Bucky’s never loved the summer more, because Darcy wears cut-off shorts that show a lot of thigh, and loose tops that don’t really hide her chest as much as she probably thinks it does, and from the few conversations they’ve had, she doesn’t take any shit.

Of course Steve’s a little sweet on her, of course he is.

Bucky doesn’t actually get to meet too many women these days, and even fewer that aren’t intimidated by his past. Or strangely attracted to it in a way that screams unhealthy attachment. He doesn’t need a woman in his life, doesn’t need that sort of complication when he’s just getting his head back to himself. But nothings wrong with a little wanting, a little something to think about at night when the air conditioner switches on too suddenly and the cold air hits him.

He sets the weights back down, because Steve isn’t even paying a fraction of attention to spotting.

“Hey, you guys seen Thor around?” Darcy calls out from the other side of the room, her face a bright beacon of amusement, poking at Jane, “They got separated, and if we don’t distract Jane, she’s going to fall into a lab and never come out.”

“Darcy!” Jane objects, a little too loud for it not to be the truth.

“Not in here, no,” Bucky answers because Steve is too busy trying to figure out how to get noises to come out of his mouth, like the big dumb idiot he actually is around women that he likes. At least when he’s quiet his mouth can’t get him in trouble. “You could ask JARVIS.”

“That seals it,” Darcy rolls her eyes, “We’re idiots, Jane. We didn’t ask the disembodied AI.” 

“JARVIS,” Jane says, a slow blush colors her cheeks and complements her stubborn set jawline, “Is Thor in the tower?”

Jarvis answers her from a speaker closer to her, as the women walk their way back out. 

Darcy turns her head, looking back at both of them. Her lips curve into a smile and her eyes dart up and down over them in a frank appreciative once over. “Glad we came in though, wonderful view.” she says, her eyebrow reaching for her hairline.

She’s gone before either of them can say anything back.

Bucky’s no stranger to desire, no stranger to a beautiful woman who flirts and smiles, expecting nothing but a flirt and a smile back, but welcoming more. He can find someone else, someday. Maybe someday Natasha will be more willing for something more than an understanding friendship. Bucky has at least that much of the past still with him, something still good and pleasant.

But Steve? Steve has him. Steve should have more than a busted friend who has had his thoughts rearranged. Steve should have this, should have someone he can hold onto. 

“You want us to stop trying to set you up?” Bucky says, “There’s an easy way to make us stop. Bet you don’t have the guts to ask her out though.”

“Buck….”

“Bet you can’t.” He shuts down Steve’s attempt to regain control over this conversation, and Bucky watches as Steve starts pushing away the roadblocks in his head.

“I can take that bet,” he says in a much quieter voice than usual.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes three days of constant ribbing, jabbing and possibly Bucky had to put Steve in a choke hold at one point for Steve to ask Darcy out.

Steve has a complicated way of dealing with women. He's comfortable with them in a way that a lot of men aren't, even in ways Bucky has never been. Women in groups doesn't intimidate him, a remnant of all the time he spent in chorus girls back pockets and dressing rooms. Women in charge, or being more skilled or smarter, or just being Natasha, has never worried him. Steve respects people who get places by their merits and didn't have to drag others down to get there.

It's specific women, specific situations. It's how he could look Peggy in the eye one moment and blush over her name the next. He'd always be able to follow her lead, accept her guidance, correct her if needed, but the moment the mood changed to the unspoken feelings between them, Steve started to fumble and fall.

Bucky understands this though, because Steve always was the overlooked one of the two of the two of them. The women he tried to introduce to Steve were bona fide idiots and constant disappointments, didn't give Steve more than a moment of their time. His best friend never got the education and experience that most other men go through in their formative years.

Maybe it was for the best though, because having the romantic option removed meant that Steve never expected it, became a better man for it. A worse man would have been jaded, turn hateful, be a little man in both stature and kindness. But that's the amazing thing about Steve, how his internal compass has always pointed true.

So if it takes three days for Steve to ask out Darcy and not trip on every other word, that's an acceptable amount of time. Bucky's in the room when Steve asks. Steve planned it out like a tactical maneuver, figuring out when she and Jane break out for lunch in the common room, and making himself a few sandwiches at the same time for two days. They've talked a lot about very little, small talk that gradually built to Darcy rushing for her headphones and sitting beside Steve to share a song off of her mp3 player with him.

Bucky's watching while Steve moves his chair closer into her space, and his fingers fiddle with the headphone cord. He can't hear what Steve says to her, but she raises her head with a hesitant smile that's just shy of blooming. She ducks her head again, shrugging and Steve settles back into his chair in triumph. Bucky isn't sure if the thrumming he feels is Steve's heart or his own.

He pours himself a glass of water, leaves Steve and Darcy be to plan out their date together. Her fingers tentatively touches Steve’s while she fiddles with her ipod to play a different song. Sometimes, that’s what Bucky longs for most; being able to touch two hands together and feel skin against skin, or is it really that first touch you make with intention? He’s not quite sure anymore.  
He’s going to end up staring at their hands if he doesn’t get out of there, and he’s going to have to burn off the restlessness building.

“But did she say yes?” Natasha asks after he finds her because she can keep up with him when he needs movement and physicality to wear his edges off. Well, more accurately, he can keep up with her when they spar, but it amounts to the same thing. 

“Who wouldn’t say yes to Steve?” Bucky has stripped down to the waist, and he’s built up enough sweat that he even has to wipe down his arm, and it shines with streaks.

“There’s plenty of women who would find being asked out by Captain America intimidating.” Natasha replies, pulling her tank top off of a nearby bench and putting it back on. Bucky can watch the way her shoulders move, the fine tuned muscles brilliant under the light, he can watch and not be ashamed of the way he remembers their past. He loves Natasha, and once upon a time, she loved him too. 

“But they would still say yes.” Because it’s Steve, and no one should be able to see Steve with his eyes half closed and that tremor to his lip and not want to give him something to make him smile.

“It’s not like women aren’t people, James, and there’s plenty of people who wouldn’t see themselves as worthy of being with a man who walked out of legends.” She peers underneath the bench in a vain search for her shoes. Which Bucky has stolen and thrown up to a ledge above them, mostly because he can and it’s always fun to see if he’s thrown her for a loop.

He thinks about walking legends and the shadows and smoke he was dragged back from, and what he has to do to deserve, well anything again. Natasha speaks of her ledger, and Bucky gets that, but it’s also a little maddening. She gets the strange satisfaction of having done those things more or less as herself. He’s got a rap sheet that he doesn’t deserve and must still redeem and suffer being the weapon the masters created and loved. 

It’s not his fault; the only thing he did wrong was not dying. 

Natasha is still bent over when she looks at Bucky, because he’s not answering her. But he still can’t quite conceive a person that wouldn’t say no to the possibility of Steve, any Steve from any place and time, even though he knows that they have. 

“Huh,” she says, her eyes locking with his, “That’s a little bit different,” she looks up and says in a very mild tone, “Can you bring me back my shoes, James?”

Bucky does. The fun is also mostly in the hiding.

“You like…”

“Darcy, yeah,” Bucky finishes for her, “But it doesn’t really matter. Steve’s got the better chance.” He’s the greater man, after all. Bucky would just ruin a girl like Darcy, bring her down.

Natasha raises her eyebrows with a sad smile, “If that’s what you want to say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! That's quite a response. Glad everyone is enjoying this so far. I wouldn't get too used to daily updates, but I am trying to do this as "writing by the seat of my pants" which means fairly quick updates. I hope everyone sticks around.
> 
> You can, of course, find me at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

Steve comes back from his first date with Darcy with a smile that's larger than the world around him. For once, it's Bucky that gets to listen, pride swirling in his stomach, as Steve recounts in exacting detail that they went to a little diner for lunch, one that has portions big enough for Steve when they see him come in, and fantastic milkshakes.

"She's been in the city before, and took us over to a little used bookstore. Darcy really knows how to sort through the chaff," Steve is a little starry-eyed and flushed with the enthusiasm of a new relationship. "She was looking for sources for her thesis, and I found a few art books."

Bucky listens as Steve keeps talking, but lets the words wash over him. Is this how he sounded when he first started taking girls out? Because Steve finds details that just aren't important and glosses over the things that matter.

"Are you going out again?" Bucky interrupts while Steve is talking about the incredibly exciting walk from the diner to the book store.

His smile changes, becoming small and shy, "Yeah. She's only in town for the rest of the week, but I'm going to take her out on my bike tomorrow."

Bucky lets out a loose laugh, "Sly dog. Get a big motor under her and then let her leave? You were paying attention to my ways, weren't you?" Bucky watches as Steve blanches and stutters that no, that's not what he's aiming for, Bucky how dare you think I'm going to be anything less than perfectly noble, or something like that, and it just makes Bucky laugh more. “Steve, you are not an idiot. Even if it’s not what you are aiming for, it’s what you are doing.”

“So what, I should cancel?” Steve says, as if he were an idiot, “I don’t want to do that either. I want to spend more time with Darcy before she leaves.”

Bucky raises his hands, “No, just -- I don’t care. I’m just giving you information, punk. You decide what to do with it.” Every man has to have his blind spots, and Steve just happens to have a blinder around this type of interpersonal relationships, “She’ll look good on your bike, though.” he admits and bites his lips. Last thing he wants Steve to pick up on is that Bucky would gladly be in Steve’s place right now.

“I know,” Steve says, the smile back on his face, this time with a mischievous edge, “And it gets her arms around me at least.”

“Oh thank heavens, you have some sort of good sense hiding underneath all that hair.” Bucky laughs again, and it feels good to laugh like this, with Steve. It’s not like how it used to be, but that’s the past and Bucky doesn’t live in memories anymore.

“I have absolutely no idea what you could possibly be talking about, Buck,” Steve feigns innocence, and when did he learn that sort of guile?   
And it’s true, Darcy does look good on the back of Steve’s bike, even after he tells her to go change, because if he has to lay the bike down, Steve is not going to be responsible for tearing up her gorgeous legs. He says that, he actually says that and Darcy ruffles his hair and runs her hand down Steve’s arm before she walks back to the guest rooms.

When she comes back, Darcy is wearing jeans so tight that they look like she bathed in them and let them dry on her legs. It’s even more obscene than her naked skin and Steve looks like the cat that ate the canary and well, Bucky isn’t doing much better. He’s just farther away. And then Darcy kisses Steve, put her hands on his cheeks and simultaneously pulls him down and leans up and kisses him. Steve’s hands go up, unsure for a moment of where to go before he sets them on her hips, nearly dropping the helmet.

“There. Got that first kiss awkwardness out of the way,” Darcy says taking the helmet from his hand, “Let’s go!”

A few minutes later, Steve and Darcy take off; Darcy’s hand tight around Steve’s waist, and her whole body flush against his back. Bucky watches, sharing in their happiness and giddy joy. It feels so damn fine, like when you watch fireworks too close, and you dodge the cartridge even while losing yourself in the explosion. You might get hit, but you’ll enjoy every moment of it. 

By the time they get back, they’ve progressed beyond those few precious first kisses and into the enjoying each other very much stage, and Bucky is more than happy to take his leave. He’s due for training and briefings for a short mission he’s due for the next week.

The training is nothing he’s never done before, but it’s always good to move his body through the basics, get a gun in his hand. The problem with being trained by two governments is that he has two different ideas of how the world operates in his head and being able to focus in on just one set of parameters is refreshing. It’s world-clearing.

And it’s better to be an asset, which at least sounds like something you value, than a glorified action figure. 

There’s a difference, Bucky thinks while listening to Agent Jimenez provide background information on his mark, because even if he does much the same work, if you value something, you’ll trust it’s judgement, it’s life and maybe one day, you’ll be able to let it go. That his value was not merely in what he could be compelled to do, but the mind behind it. No, SHIELD may not be the most innocent of places to end up, but there’s very few organizations that need people like him that would be better.

Take even this mission. Bucky is read into it because of the capacity for what could happen if their best plans go awry, for potential problems that require his skillset. He’s not indoctrinated, doesn’t get his mind split open and his worldview narrowed. He keeps his judgement, his values, and his ability to say no.

He’ll take it and let the world come into equilibrium between all the different parts of himself and become a whole man. He’s got Steve, who has somehow become the man they both wished they could be growing up; he’s got Natasha, his comfort in a dark time, and he’s got a world full of possibilities. It could be worse.


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky comes back from his assignment two weeks later not having shot a damn thing. He got a lot of running in, took in the back alley tour of at least one major metropolitan city in the US, but he didn’t have to shoot anyone, and he’s going to count that as a win. He’s sore, he’s sweaty, and he’s only got the let-down from the adrenaline rush to blame for what happens next.

“You got your downtime settled yet?” Steve asks. Right. Mandatory 72 hour downtime after his briefings are over. Doesn’t seem right, since he didn’t really do anything, but it feels humane to be offered it.

“I figured I’d sleep and hit a few targets,” Bucky shrugs, he doesn’t really know what to do with this time. 

“Come down to Culver with me then,” Steve says. Bucky hasn’t quite figured out modern dating, but he’s pretty sure you aren’t supposed to ask your best friend to go with you on a long weekend. Steve has gone down to see Darcy twice in two weeks, and he is walking with a little extra roll to his step, a sure sign of the recently laid, and this really doesn’t seem the time to be bringing along a third wheel. 

Bucky says as much, at least about being a third wheel. 

“She asked for you to hang out. There’s a week break between summer sessions, and there’s some sort of poli-sci summer camp.” Steve says, clearly unsure of the concept, “She’s got a few of the other students staying with her and Darcy thinks the more the merrier for the weekend.”

Bucky looks at Steve for a long moment, “Would these happen to be other female students?” he asks, and Steve does a complicated maneuver with his face, a smile forming from one side to the other, his eyebrows waggling, and Bucky loves it when Steve breaks out of his serious demeanor, “Steve, are you trying to set me up? I can’t believe it, what has the world come to.” He can get his own dates, if he wanted. He doesn’t need Steve or Darcy to hand-pick them for him.

On the other hand, have you seen college students these days?

So he goes. The trip isn’t too long, and it’s spent bouncing between radio stations, avoiding the horrible talk shows and discovering new music on the classic rock channel. Steve keeps a lot of lists of things to check out, and Bucky finds that he’s creating some of his own. He’s been around for more, remembers things, but he didn’t care about American music for so long, and his keepers had only given him the barebones of current culture if he needed to blend in. So he has a list of his own and a Spotify account that he can hook into when he needs to drown himself in noise.

Culver is pretty, and old in the way that American universities can be old. Darcy lives in a shabby duplex just across the street from the main gates, and she swears to them both that it’s not about to be condemned. Yet. Just because the other buildings on either side have bright warnings, doesn’t mean she gets to be pushed out yet.

“Oh thank fuck, you actually came, I was going to go crazy,” Darcy says to him, first chance they are alone in the room, “I love my cohort to death, but we need something to talk about other than current events and their historical context. ”

“Aren’t Steve and I the very definition of current events and their historical context?” Bucky asks with a grin.

Darcy rolls her eyes while she laughs with him, and starts explaining that this isn’t a summer camp, it’s an immersion week for potential and incoming majors, and Darcy’s been working her ass off the whole of it. “Because apparently, grad students don’t have enough on their plates, and they chose me to represent the diversity of life experience you can expect at Culver.” Darcy walks him into her kitchen and he steps over a bit of sagging floor, “Seeing as we have a fairly strong international and minority representation, and most of my personal life these days is red pen redacted, I figure it’s because I didn’t grow up in a household with a second home in the Hamptons or wherever rich people have houses that they mostly ignore these days.”

“Or maybe they hope that someone will recognize you from those tabloid photos of Thor.” Bucky points out.

Darcy raises a finger, telling him to wait a second, and playfully hits her head against a wall. “I am sick to death of those photos.”

“Get used to them, Darcy. If you are serious about Steve,” and who wouldn’t be? She softens as he says Steve’s name, and he sees something so familiar in her expression, “Then you might just need to give up a little part of yourself for that.”

Darcy is a thoughtful woman underneath the glitz of being so painfully young, she’s never seemed naive as much as inexperienced. She’s handled the extraordinary circumstances she’s found herself in with more grit and grace than most people. She’d never make a good agent, she doesn’t know how to not be herself, and Bucky likes that about her. If she ever thought about it, she’d make one hell of a leader. 

If there is a God, he should help the man who opposes a Darcy who has accumulated power and prestige.

“Worth it.” Darcy says without a second thought, succinct and precise, “I’ve given up some for Jane, why wouldn’t I for Steve? I still can’t believe he asked me out. I didn’t see that coming at all.”

“Yeah, well, it took a hell of a lot of pushing to get him there, so don’t….” He stops, not wanting to finish that sentence, and asks instead the question he really wants to know the answer to, “Why’d you ask me here anyways?”

“James Buchanan Barnes, I have learned a great deal of wisdom from my copious amounts of time being an absolute idiot about dating, and the number one lesson? The best friend is the one that really has to like you.” She moves uncertainty from foot to foot, the floorboards creaking as she does so, “And I am serious about Steve, I think. Which means I’m serious about you too.” she shrugs like that statement, honest and kind, is something that should be obvious, like there’s nothing in him that should make her worry. Like he hadn’t just spent two weeks waiting to get a killshot order because they try not to send Steve out on the dirtier missions.

This weekend would be easier if she wasn’t so damn easy to like.


	5. Chapter 5

It's not that he means to overhear Darcy and one of the women in her cohort, a black woman who fidgets constantly, but it is an occupational hazard. It's easier to just listen and learn than it is to try not to listen. Words are just words unless they hit certain phrases or names.

Except, he's found himself in a house that is well on its way to falling over, and there's a steady stream of 24 year-olds in tight pants that carefully obeyed the "no dancing" sign in the corner of the living room. Steve isn't even allowed on that side of the room. He's starving for a conversation that doesn't end with a scoff of "You don't know what you are talking about." from people wearing scarves in the summer.

But they don’t say anything about Bucky wearing a long sleeve shirt in the heat of summer, even if it’s lightweight and barely masks the sheen of his arm. He just mumbles about the war, if they even ask, and they are all too polite to say much else.

The group that's settled in at the end of the night is much smaller and far more drunk, but also a bit more thoughtful than the scarf-wearers. The discussions have gotten a lot less academic though, and arguments over policy turned to elections and light name calling and finally just moved out of politics altogether.

Bucky is back in the kitchen, grabbing a beer out of the fridge. The only other guy still here brought it, said to share and spread the wealth, that he made it or something. “Homebrewing is an art,” the kid with the artfully unkempt beard told Bucky, “I found this recipe while reading colonial diaries, and I had to try it.” Bucky prefers the vodka he saw Darcy stash away, but he’ll humor the guy. It’s not bad, although not exactly good either.

Different era’s have different tastes, he supposes.

The black woman -- Tanya, he thinks her name was -- has a loud clear voice even from a room over, so it really isn’t eavesdropping. Darcy and the rest of the group, homebrew hipster, two near indistinguishable white girls with different sorority shirts, “Lewis, wherever you found these men, you need to go back to the well and drag up some more.”

Darcy’s drinking from her stash, and has the sweet lethargic voice of the pleasantly buzzed, “Go to New York, my friend.”

“I’ve been to New York, Lewis. They don’t all --”

“You should try Brooklyn,” Darcy giggles, “Friends of Jane’s, I swear Tanya. I didn’t steal them from a magazine shoot.”

One of the other women has been pestering Steve all night. For a group of politically engaged, hyper aware young adults, they are obviously sleep deprived enough that they can’t tell that it’s Captain America who has been sitting next to Darcy, his big hands cradling a hip to keep her close to him, and from falling over when he laughs. “I swear I know you from someplace, “ says one of them, Bucky can’t tell who without giving away that he’s listening.

“Maybe you’ve seen me on TV,” Steve answers, and Bucky holds his breath because shit, Steve are you actually going to announce to a couple of grad students who you are, “I’ve been in a few crowd scenes, probably just seen me in something.”

“Yeah maybe,” the girl says dubiously, and Bucky hangs his head to keep from laughing, “They do film a lot of stuff in New York City, don’t they?”

He makes the mistake of moving in the kitchen, which sends the floorboards groaning, and Darcy yells out, “Bucky! You should come here and play a game with us! We need someone to counterbalance Steve’s stubborn sobriety.”

Bucky opens the beer, and walks over. If they need someone to be a little buzzed, that he can do. He’s starting to suspect that the real reason he’s here is to be a buffer for Steve. Both of them are adjusting, but Steve spends most of his time in the realm adults with real serious power and needs, not adults who sometimes barely have power over their own life and research. It’s a more distinct culture shock than most he’s encountered, and Bucky can see the unease in the way he holds Darcy close and the curious, wistful expression. Steve retreats inward, trying to understand instead of blocking out what’s foreign.

They went from being kids to staying alive in tough times, to fighting in wars to being dead together. They can navigate graduate students together too.

The bearded kid -- Michael, Bucky finally remembers -- pokes at Tanya, “Truth or Dare?”

Tanya closes her eyes and her laughter is nearly endless, “Really Mike? Truth or Dare?”

“Why not?”

Tanya looks around the room and most everyone else just shrugs to say why not. Bucky’s not worried, his idea of truth is somewhat limited. 

“Fine, truth.”

“How much do you bench press?” 

Tanya, it turns out, is a bodybuilder. The concept itself boggles Bucky. People who work out just for sport or take their body in new directions for fun, and Tanya tries to explain that she does figure competitions and Bucky has to admit that while he doesn’t understand it, she’s quite dedicated. “Pretty much I wake up, work out, do work, work out, and sleep.”

“I’ll take pizza instead,” one of the blondes mutters.

“I look forward to my pizza,” Tanya agrees, “Carb days are the best days.”

Everyone chooses truth. The blondes reveal that they did not meet until grad school, but bonded instantly over organizing their sororities into leading Rock the Vote on their campuses. The one with the triangle on her shirt asks Darcy, “Why’d you stay here?”

“Jane,” Darcy admits, and when Steve looks puzzled by the stay here part of the question she says, “You aren’t supposed to get your masters at the same school you went for undergrad. But Culver’s good, has a steady stream of internships and grants, and Jane after New York,” she waves her hand around to encompass the enormity of what she can’t say, “Well, she needed someone to stay with her and keep her from being so smart and stubborn that she lost sight of herself.”

Steve kisses her and it’s Darcy that flushes pink, from either the force or the alcohol. If you’d sum up Steve in a word, it’s loyal. To people, to ideas and values, but mostly for people. Bucky averts his eyes, trying not to think of the elephant in his mind, or how well their lips fit together, how Steve loses himself for more than just a fraction of a moment.

“Now there’s an idea,” Tanya says, grabbing an empty bottle from Michael’s side and places it in the middle of the rough circle they are in, “Might as well make this a real slumber party, right, since no one will take a dare?”

Darcy looks at Steve. She’s not asking for permission, but making sure he’s comfortable with the game. Bucky keeps his mouth to himself, not wanting to add that Steve got his first kiss through a game, because that would just be embarrassing. He’ll tell her later, when the rest of the cohort isn’t around.

They aren’t kids anymore, and kissing a stranger doesn’t send his heart beating fast, and he ends up having to plant a heavy, messy kiss on Tanya, who fidgets even as she pulls on him for more, then breaks away and falls backwards, “Died and gone to hot man heaven.”

He takes the bottle and spins it carefully, letting it fumble in it’s path. And it does eventually slow and point at the one person he did not want it to fall on.

“Don’t go stealing my girl, Buck.” Steve says.

“Couldn’t if I tried,” Bucky means for it to be a joke, but as Darcy crosses over to meet him, he thinks it might sound reassuring. If he chickens out and gives her just a peck, that would signal that he might like Darcy a little too strongly. He wants to make it comical, turn her into a parody of the welcome home kiss, but she reaches him first.

And fuck, if her lips are soft and wet, and the best kiss he’s had in decades, his heart racing and filling with gut wrenching want.

“Not bad,” Darcy pronounces, flipping her hair back, “Got some moves there.” she sits back against Steve, like nothing even happened, and twists the bottle. One of the blondes, and alright, that’s nice to watch too, but Bucky is still in his head about the kiss, that he doesn’t even notice when it’s Steve’s turn and the bottle points to him.

“Wait, can I get my phone for this?” Darcy says, “I promise no blackmail, but this could be hot.”

“Fuck off Lewis,” he says, and does try to get a laugh with Steve. But that doesn’t work because the moment he kisses the jerk, it’s like a current through his body, frying all the metal parts and sending parts of himself off like a motor. Bucky does something he hasn’t done for a long time.

He panics. He puts both hands on Steve’s cheeks and suddenly the kiss is hot, a dam that’s broken. But blisteringly brief, because he leans back when he hears someone clear their throat.

He doesn’t even want to look at Darcy, and he only hears the the floorboard creak and groan underneath him as he stands up and walks into the kitchen away from this startling complication.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, you can always find me at [ my tumblr ](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

It's not anything to really be proud of, but Bucky slips out of the house with as little noise as possible, with just a mumble that he's going out for a walk. Steve starts to get up and walk out after him, but Darcy pulls him back down and tells him to give him a little time.

Why couldn't they just be a little less likeable?

He hasn't spent any time in college towns before, and he looks on the houses from various decades, converted stately homes with strings of white rope lights hung around columns. Darcy's duplex is hardly the only one that looks like a strong breeze will knock it over.

His heart finally starts to steady about when he hits a new looking apartment complex, advertising free big screen tv's and internet access. For the first time since, well that happened, he can slow down enough to think things through. This is what he does, after all; tear complex situations down to terrifying results. He just normally does it with a gun.

But maybe the same process can be used on this clusterfuck of emotions. Because when it was just Darcy, and even kissing Darcy would have been okay, he could get over it. That just takes time and watching the relationship he pushed Steve into starting develop. He's wanted someone to see just how good of a man Steve is, to look past that he was small and sick, and love him.

Love him like Bucky did. Does. This is a mess.

He could have gone his entire life without ever kissing Steve. Never knowing how he’d react to a different type of intimacy than what they already enjoyed. His entire second, no, his third life. He would have been just fine with that.

Now though? He thought wanting Darcy was enough, but Steve was like wanting the forbidden. It’s not the male thing, Bucky’s been too much in the world to be all that concerned about suddenly having a minor sexual identity freakout. It doesn’t even make the top ten revelations of his life. No, what it does is provide an awful lot of context for a dozen or more times that Bucky has gone out on heart and limb, the fierce protectiveness he felt, and if he’s real honest, feels whenever Steve goes out and leaps before he looks. Which is all the time, and Bucky has spent most of his life cleaning up for the asshole, and hoping Steve doesn’t get himself killed.

Bucky can imagine a world without himself; a world without Steve is unthinkable.

His world, one where he can freely choose, he will always freely choose one where Steve is there. 

Maybe he could even learn to work through this complication. It’s mostly just raw, eating at his nerves. Time would dull it down, erode it until it’s just a pleasant memory of a fun night.

It’s just that he can now feel both of them on his lips, knows how Darcy could sweep her lips into his, knows how Steve’s stubble feels underneath his hands. Wants that experience over and over again. He can’t hide that from either of them anymore, and he doesn’t want to ruin his friendship with Steve, the one he’s begun with Darcy, just when he’s capable of having them.

He’s gone over an hour, and the air chills, women in too-tight clothes wrap their arms around themselves, but seem to forget that they can wear more clothes, and they travel in packs. The men do too, proud and rowdy and all of them ignore Bucky, thank goodness.

When he gets back to the house, the cohort has taken up almost all of the free space in the living room, leaving just the no dancing zone free. They are spread out wide or curled in on themselves, with makeshift pillows and throws for blankets, and fast asleep. Bucky toes between them, and hears Steve in the kitchen and just in his line of sight.

Darcy sits on the countertop, her legs tight against Steve’s thighs, and their conversation punctuated by messy, open kissing. Steve’s hands are up the back of Darcy’s shirt, exposing pale skin and Steve’s thumb pressing against her bra. If one of them alone can drive him crazy, both of them together is obscene. 

If he could just get in the middle… his thoughts trail off, because he can’t think about that.

“I just, I don’t understand…” Steve clearly picks up a train of thought that started before Bucky started listening.

“It’s called bisexuality.” Darcy says, clearing hair from Steve’s face, “It’s a thing. It exists. Write it down in your little notebook. Search for it on google.” her lip curls and she looks aside with an exaggerated second thought, “With safesearch.”

“I know how to find porn, Darce,” Steve says, his voice low and sexy. Bucky wouldn’t have thought Steve had it in him, but Steve’s surprising him a lot lately. “Looking at some right now.” He drops his head as far as he can, murmuring into her neck, “I just know that there was something there that I hadn’t realized before.”

Darcy lifts his head up, “That was obvious, Steve. Look, he’s the most important person to you. Don’t give me that look, it’s true and we both know it. Whatever this is, it could burn itself out tomorrow. It may not, but you two will always be important to each other. You’ll figure it out.”

“I liked it,” Steve says, honest, and how do you say that to the girl you’ve been seeing for just about a month? Steve kissed back and he liked it, and he’s comfortable enough to talk about it already with her.

Bucky’s just going to have to shrug it off, that’s all. Steve can’t afford to get screwed out of such a good thing for him. Darcy’s too good of a woman to let Steve pass up to just see if the two of them can fit together in a new way.

“I did too,” Darcy looks momentarily distracted and curls her hair around a finger, anxious and unsure, even when she smiles,“ Let’s go to bed, okay?”

Bucky takes a step back and the floorboards groan loud and long, and Bucky hasn’t felt like dancing at all. Steve turns and Darcy looks up and they can see him just as easily as he’s been watching them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, you can find me at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

Darcy doesn’t ask how long he’s been standing there. Neither does Steve, and it is a little pointless to ask a professional liar to tell the truth, even to his best friend, when he can save a little face.

Darcy hops down from the counter and pulls her shirt back down, biting her lips against a blush. She walks towards him and rests a hand on his back, looking over the crowded floor, filled to the brim of sleeping grad students. “We’re not exactly party animals anymore. We’ve got the closing and administrative stuff to finish up tomorrow, so it’s early to bed.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Steve says coming up behind them, “There was a quick succession of shots after you left.”

The only spot left is in the weak spot on the floor, and he’s hesitant to stay there. He might break something in his sleep.

“I feel bad, you were supposed to have the couch, and Tanya’s hogging it.”

“I’m not going to ask her to move,” Bucky replies to Darcy, “She might beat me up. Find me a blanket, I’ll sleep in the tub.”

“No way,” Darcy balks, “ No, you at least come upstairs. I got really plush carpeting up there, next best thing to a couch.” She grabs him by the arm and starts walking him through the sleeping bodies towards the stairs. Bucky holds his hands up and lets her push him. Clearly, they are just going to ignore the conversation he walked in on.

The only problem with the upstairs is that it’s hot. Darcy has a small air conditioner, but it can’t keep up with the rising summer temperatures. He doesn’t need the blanket that she offers, but folds it in half to sleep on, taking the pillow under his head. It is a nice carpet, probably the nicest part of the whole house, and he’s asleep fast enough that he doesn’t have much time to think about how Steve wraps Darcy in his arms, and how she lays her head against his chest.

There’s a great deal of screaming going on, flashes of light and he’s cold everywhere. He doesn’t like that, he preferred it warm, even the sticky heat while he was trying to sleep, rather than the coldness that creeps around him. A weight on his arm and he pushes back against it, Bucky won’t go back where it’s cold. Doesn’t want to lose anything else about himself in the cold. So he keeps pushing and pushing but he keeps falling until he’s dropped to his knees and his arms are pinned tight behind his back.

“ -ky?. It’s okay, you’re in Virginia, at Darcy’s house. It’s okay. No one’s hurt.” Steve is saying, a litany of care and concern, just repeating those facts over and over. Steve has to strain a bit to hold down Bucky’s arms. He needs to move and get out of here, but he can’t break free of Steve’s grip.

He looks up towards the bed, Darcy has one foot on the ground, a drawer open in her nightstand, and stripped down to a black tank top and underwear, pressed as close to the wall as she possibly can be. Her glasses are barely on her face, haphazardly thrown on and crooked.

Her eyes are fixed on him, waiting and terrified. Waiting for him to do something to give her cause to leave. Bucky hangs his head and sees from the corner of his eyes, Steve still talking softly, an indentation in the wall. No, not an indentation, a fist sized hole. There’s a thudding on the door and Tanya comes barreling in.

They must be an incredible sight. Everyone half naked, the drywall crumbling, and that doesn’t even take into account that Steve is restraining Bucky. His muscles are tired, even his arm is tired and it’s not flesh and bone.

“I uh, heard a lot of noise?” Tanya says, not stepping past the threshold.

“Nightmare.” Darcy says with curt efficiency, “Handling it. Go back to sleep.”

Tanya looks at Darcy and the way every muscle is tense and primed for action, “Honey are you sure? Do we need to call someone?”

“No. Tanya, no. We’ll be fine, we just all need to settle down and collect ourselves.”

Tanya is dubious, that’s for sure, “I’ll be downstairs,” yeah, and probably with the police on speed dial, all because he can’t keep his brain from spilling out in his sleep.

Steve kneels down beside him, “You here with us?” Bucky nods and Steve lets him go. He finishes slumping to the ground, and lands his hands in front of him. Steve maneuvers around to sit in front of him. Bucky breathes in short, shallow gasps for awhile as he starts looking around at the rest of the damage the two of them made before Steve could take him down. Darcy’s room is a mess, the wall isn’t the only thing that’s broken, a lamp lies in pieces on the ground.

“Fuck, Darcy, I’m sorry,” speaking feels almost like vomit right now, a foul taste in his mouth but he can’t stop, “I’m so sorry, I’ll go sleep somewhere else, I won’t --”

“Don’t worry about it, I wasn’t getting my deposit back anyways.” Darcy says.

Bucky leans his head forward until it hits Steve’s chest, trying to steady his breath. Steve doesn’t seem to know what to do and shifts his weight between his legs and his hands come to rest on the nape of Bucky’s neck. He can feel the quick movements of his head, looking towards Darcy.

“I’ll go grab you some water.” Darcy relaxes and slips out the door.

This is why, this is why he can’t have either of them. He can’t bear to see Darcy scared and afraid of him. Trembling at the edge of the bed and staying only out of concern and paralyzing fear. Doesn’t want to have Steve see what years of doing the dirty work of supposed great men has done to him. He can’t have them, can’t ever, the world is just too small.

“Hey, hey, Bucky, no, it’s okay. You’ll always have me, always. I’ve got your back as long you keep showing it to me.” Steve has his hands against his head, pressing him closer, “Always here, you always have me.” Bucky takes a deep breath, and then another, wrapped up against Steve’s bare chest and he doesn’t even care, its steadying and Steve can handle him if he lashes out again. Steve’s still talking, “I have nightmares too.”

He feels Darcy sit next to him, and she holds out a glass of water when Bucky finally leans away from Steve. He downs the whole thing as they watch.

“You want to try sleeping again?” Darcy asks, her hand just the span of a hair away from his thigh, and so full of care and concern that she vibrates with it.

Bucky starts searching for the blanket, the pillow, and the sheet, try and make up his space again to try to salvage the rest of the night. Darcy stops him, laying hands on both his arms.

“No, not down here,” She grabs and pulls him forward, and Bucky just goes along with it. He doesn’t have the inertia of his own to start moving, “The bed’s not huge but we can all fit if we aren’t afraid of each other.” 

“Safe with us, Bucky, I promise.” Steve says, and when can he deny Steve anything. Darcy helps him up, Steve tips him back onto the bed. The bed creaks when both Steve and Darcy flank him, careful and close but not touching.

And yes, this is a lovely thought, how much their warmth and their bodies finally get his mind to quiet long enough to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me at [ my tumblr ](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

Bucky hasn’t slept next to a person, much less between two people, in a long time. He’s forgotten that he’s attracted to warmth and body heat like a moth, and when he wakes up, his eyelashes skimming the skin of Steve’s chest. Which means his nose is also smashed up against the sweat of a hot night, but he doesn’t really want to move. Darcy has turned over during the night, her limbs splayed out like starfish, but Steve just moved closer during the night and rested his arm on Bucky’s. It’s casually protective, like even in his sleep Steve still isn’t sure of himself and what he can accomplish in this body.

He’s not ready to give this up, a little hope of comfort in a crappy apartment and a mattress that sags under their weight. Being awake is not something he’s really looking forward to, doesn’t want the weight of his thoughts to bring him down again. But Darcy’s alarm goes off, and she slams her hand down on the snooze and rolls herself off the bed, landing unsteadily on her feet, then turning the alarm off completely. 

“You’re awake,” she says, sleepy and concerned, “Sleep better?”

Bucky opens his eyes, “A bit,” he says, his throat dry from screaming during the night. And it’s not true at all, he slept fantastically between Steve and Darcy, and even more he slept well from sheer exhaustion. 

“That’s good,” she smiles and runs her hands through her hair, which sticks to her fingers in the humidity. “Sleep solves a lot of problems.”

“I don’t think a good nights sleep is going to solve me.”

Darcy looks at him, her lips struggling to hold back a giggle, “How do you solve a problem like Bucky Barnes?” she half-sings without being able to carry a tune, “That did not fit the song at all.”

“I don’t even know what you are trying to reference there,” Bucky says, cracking a smile.

“Eh, we can watch it sometime.” That she’s still just in her underwear and a tank doesn’t phase her at all, but even first thing in the morning, with her hair everywhere and makeup that she didn’t wash off last night ringing her eyes, she’s beautiful. For the moment though, she just looks tired, “I think we’re going to have to have a talk soon.”

The comfort of the bed turns cold and tense, and Bucky moves away from Steve, turning over and sitting up, “I don’t know what kind of person you think I am, Lewis,” he struggles to keep the menace out of his words, but he’s not going to get stop how defensive he sounds, “But I’m not in the business of stealing anyone’s --”

“I know you aren’t. I’m not worried about that. For all that you are concerned with your past, you’ve got that same fucking nobility that Steve does,” she looks fondly at Steve when she talks about him and Bucky knows he did a good thing getting the two of them together. It’s a shame he’s going to fuck it up. “And that nobility probably means you are going to try to bottle up whatever conflicting emotions you’re feeling until you decide to hate yourself. I just want to try to stop that before it starts.” She looks at her alarm clock, “But if I start now, I’m going to be late for checking out the brats. So just listen okay? I haven’t even entertained the possibility that you’d steal Steve or myself away from each other.”

And then she’s grabbing clothes from off the floor and heading out of the room. He hears the shower start.

“She’s a spitfire,” he says at Steve, lying still and steady next to him.

“She really is,” Steve says, his eyes still shut. Okay, so Steve heard that whole conversation. Steve doesn’t move from his place on the bed, and neither does Bucky, and they don’t make a sound more substantial than breathing. When they break the quiet, they won’t be able to go back on the things they say.

After this trip, nothing is going to be the same between them, and Bucky wants to hold on for just a little while longer. He’s only had their friendship, their history, and it’s strength back for such a short time, and he feels like he is standing on the precipice of its demise. He’s going to fight for it all the way down.

“She’s not wrong though,” Steve says, finally opening his eyes and turning on his back, “Can’t let it fester until it hurts so much your heart falls out.”

Bucky thinks for a long moment and doesn’t look at Steve, “I’m not even sure what I’m feeling right now.” Liar. He’s lying. He’s in love with Steve Rogers, and now that he knows what that feeling is called, he has been forever. In love with the skinny kid willing to start shit for people with less guts than him, with the man that saved him twice over. He likes Steve’s girlfriend, too, more than he ought. He knows what he’s feeling. What he really means is that he doesn’t know how to act with these feelings. 

They are a lump in his throat, and he wants to set them on fire and walk away from it all.

Steve lies too, “That’s fair,” Steve’s an impatient person, he doesn’t want to wait until Bucky gets his act together to have this out, “I mean, I didn’t….” he stops, clears his throat, and starts again, “It’s not entirely new to me. I couldn’t name it before, but Buck, I think --”

This is all just too much, Steve can’t finish that sentence. “Yeah, I know. But what’s there to do about it now?” Bucky lays it out, as cold as he can make it, twisting his lips into a sneering smile, if he makes it hurt he can sever the thought, “You’re happy.”

“What about you?” Steve asks, “What’s going to make you happy?” Steve doesn’t quite fall for his bait, though, just challenges Bucky further into honesty.

“I don’t know. Not thinking about it, okay? That’s what’s going to make me happy right now.” Bucky finally admits, “I don’t want to deal with this yet.”

“Not exactly the type of talking I was hoping for,” Darcy says, walking in a rush through her room, picking up a pair of shoes, and selecting jewelry, then stuffing it into a pocket. “I gotta get to the thing, and you guys need to get back to New York.” She huffs and looks down. Steve gets out of the bed and walks over to wrap his arms around her, dropping his head into the back of her hair. “I wish I had more time for you two,” she says quietly, “And I told you, give him time to think and settle. We don’t need to go changing our lives on a dime, we’ve got enough upheaval in our lives.”

She leans back against Steve, closing her eyes for a brief moment, like she’s trying to capture and build up strength, “I’m coming up in a couple of weeks. Let’s see how things are going then?”

Steve shrugs on clothes to follow her downstairs and Bucky catches a snippet of conversation while he gathers up his own, and Darcy asks, “I have thoughts of what might happen, babe, but I need to know, are you with me?”

Steve answers yes and it’s all Bucky needs to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was a little later than I wanted. I'm prepping for a show and my time is slightly limited. 
> 
> As always, you can find me at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	9. Chapter 9

The drive back felt like a dare. Dare to say something relevant, but honestly, Bucky is relieved that their conversation went no further than the latest things that they’ve both checked off their pop culture lists. Steve’s been watching Bruce Lee movies, Bucky’s been listening to New Wave. The latter at least leads him to be able to sing along to more music on the radio when they run out of things to talk about, and the silence becomes a little too tense.

It eventually wears off, that tenseness, the farther away they get from Darcy. At some level, it’s always been about the two of them, and it doesn’t matter to Bucky what form that takes. Steve’s friendship is stronger than even Steve’s shield, and protects them both just as much. So no matter how much Bucky looks at Steve through the corner of his eye and sees confusion, or how often Bucky imagines pinning Steve down in a fight and opening his mouth up with his tongue, what he has will always be enough.

He can keep his share of Steve’s love, and let Darcy have the rest. She can be Steve’s best girl, and Bucky can be his best friend.

The truth about living in Stark’s monument to ego and questionable taste, is that someone is always putting out fires in the world. Someone leaves, another person gets back. It’s his turn when they get word of a questionable shipping container, and he and Natasha go out to be sneaky and underhanded, and of course, discover that the container is in fact, full of things that go boom.

Go ahead, ask him how they discover this. Hint, it involves lots of running and some really intense heat. It takes two days of sitting in a safehouse, changing bandages and drinking every drop of water that they can find before Natasha finally asks him, “What do you think of Darcy?”

Given that Bucky is currently face down on a relatively clean mattress, with Nat straddling him so that she can tend to a blister, he doesn’t have any chance to play ignorant.

“I like her,” he says. Natasha knows him, and gets his meaning right away, “She’s good for Steve, and becoming a decent friend.”

“Is that how this is?” Natasha says, shifting her weight, to sit back on his butt, “You going to tell me the rest?”

He’s getting pretty comfortable with his thoughts, but articulating them feels like a brick wall placed directly in front of his lips. If his throat is parched, it’s because he’s dehydrated, not because he doesn’t know what to say.

“Remember that I know all the ways to hurt you if you do not answer,” Natasha never changes, always wants to pull him out of his head, doesn’t matter if he’s comfortable there or not.  
“We kinda kissed,” he admits.

“Darcy or Steve?” she asks, and kicks her heels on his legs when he doesn’t answer.

“Kinda both? It was during some game, and I…” he trails off, not know how to finish, because it seems so childish.

“Discovered the depth of your feelings towards them both?” Natasha mercifully finishes for him. 

“Doesn’t matter though,” he closes his eyes as Natasha changes another one of the bandages. They both heal fast, but it hurts like furious anger, swift and easier to deal with on their own rather than get treated in a hospital. “They’ve both made it plenty obvious that they aren’t leaving each other, so I just gotta move on.”

“Did they?” Natasha stills her hands, “Did they say that to you, or to each other?”

“Does it matter? It was said. Darcy asked him, straight out, if he was with her. Steve said yes. End of the story, and it was the only way that story was going to end. If something were to happen, it would mean that those two were done.” He punches the ground, and feels the impact against his shoulder. It stopped hurting long ago, “My attempt at happiness isn’t worth the destruction of theirs.”

“Oh, you idiot,” Natasha says, pulling his arm back, and the sound it makes is the loudest thing in the safehouse. “You are allowed to be happy.”

Bucky thought that Natasha would get it, that happiness has a price that burns even the best of people. But even Natasha these days seems comfortable, if not quite happy, herself. Perhaps it’s peace, perhaps it is a contented resignation to her life, and it’s not something that Bucky can share.

Maybe it’s just that Natasha has had a lot more practice at controlling the burn, so that it fuels and doesn’t consume him whole.

Bucky feins sleep. Natasha knows better but says to him, as he breathes in and out in the semblance of a dream, “You should actually start listening, rather than eavesdropping.”

They don’t go back until they are good and healed, and when he gets back, Steve reads the write up that Natasha hands over. Bucky didn’t even see her writing it, but there it is, on a little usb drive. 

“You okay?” Steve asks, too quiet, considering that Natasha handed the report in and left them alone. Steve sling his arm around his shoulder, and his fingers trace the seams on Bucky’s arm. That’s a new feeling. 

The metal is both sensitive and not sensitive at all. Pressure more than sharp, so he feels the way Steve’s fingers press against the seams and the plates, and can read it as more than simple care and concern. It’s not fair at all how one night changes the way Bucky interprets even the most commonplace of things.

He doesn’t have nerves there, but it still sends false shivers down his spine, “Yeah, I’m good now. Took time but...you know how it goes.”

“Not nearly as much time as it should,” Steve answers with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “Does it ever feel weird that the one thing we’ve had both too much of and had far too little awareness of is time?”

“Did you become maudlin while I was away?”

“No just, I don’t want to miss things anymore. I end up waiting too long for them.”

Bucky steps out of the way, “Darcy coming up soon?” he asks, because well, if Steve wants to make things serious between him and his girl, Bucky’s not going to stand in the way.

“Yeah, next week.”

Bucky doesn’t even have to force a smile, it’s real, it’s genuine. His friend is happy, and he can be too, “Big plans?”

Steve lips perk up in a real smile, “You could say that. Not sure how it’s going to play out, but I’ve got my hopes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why I should only be allowed one wip at a time: because I upload to the wrong work. 
> 
> For this, and other nuggets of hilarity, you can find me at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	10. Chapter 10

Bucky has never noticed just how much Steve touches him when they have a day together. It's a constant sensory barrage. Steve grabs his wrist to show him something, leaves a hand on his shoulder, or sits a little close several times through the day.

For the first time in his life, it almost feels shameful, because Bucky is getting far more out of the touch than Steve is, the free flowing warmth that circulates through him that feels good. He leans into the touches, even when Steve is talking to him about Darcy. Even when they are planning out a future mission or talking about strategy. Bucky should pull away, but he doesn't, he doesn't have that much self-control.

Steve gets antsier and fidgets more the closer it comes to Darcy's visit. Some of it is quite adorable, Steve's room has never been tidier, but sometimes Bucky will catch him staring off when he's ostensibly sketching.

"You alright?" Bucky asks under his breath, since there's the whole crowd sitting in the common room, a movie playing in the background as they all work on their own projects. Bucky's the only one really watching the movie, and he can't even name what it is.

“Yeah, just….” Steve trails off for a second, and Bucky recognizes the look on his face. It’s one he’s seen countless times before, where Steve is gathering in his courage for a task he deems necessary but that he doesn’t particularly want to do. Steve’s a fighter, but he’d still rather people see the error of their ways before he starts swinging, “You like Darcy, right?” He says slow and quiet.

“As I recall, I manhandled you until you asked her out, so yeah, I like Darcy.” Bucky answers with false bravado.

Steve winces and looks away, “I mean, you like her.” Steve touches him again, keeping Bucky still and in place, because that’s not a question anymore. It’s a statement of fact. 

This is one of the reasons Bucky always wore a mask as Winter Soldier, he can’t stop his face from reacting. Steve’s always been able to read him. “Not going to steal your girl, jackass.” Bucky tries to reassure him, and tries to keep his face from exclaiming that he likes Steve too, that his internal landscape is very confusing right now.

“Darcy wanted to make dinner for us when she’s here,” Steve ignores Bucky’s distress, with a compassionate shake of his head, “You got any requests?”

It’s as good as a change of subject is going to get, and hopefully Darce can keep up with the sheer amount of food the two of them can dream of eating.

Darcy does. She cooks an enormous amount of simple food, and begs off the dishes and makes Bucky do them. Sometimes Bucky can’t get enough of dishwashers. It’s not a terrible chore to do them by hand, even with Darcy’s cooking, but rinsing and loading is a hell of a lot easier.

“Did you tell him?” he hears her say in a whisper.

“I tried, Darce, I couldn’t...

"You guys just don't quite get the concept of clear, effective communication skills, do you?" Darcy finally raises her voice, “Oh sure, you can go fight the big fights, but emotions are hard. Tell him.”

“What are you telling me?” Bucky finally asks, because yeah, it’s time to find out which shoe is finally going to drop.

Darcy looks expectantly at Steve.

“You should be with us,” Steve says with conviction, enough that Bucky is a little blindsided because, what the fuck.

“I’m not going to be your pity fuck, Rogers,” He spits out, because this has to be some sort of a cruel joke, severing their rebuilt bonds.

“I don’t mean it to be. We’ve got something Bucky, something big and mutual and.. it’s not a fuck that I want. That we want. It’s a relationship.”

“Did you talk Darcy into this?” Bucky asks.

"This isn't exactly my first time around at this particular rodeo," Darcy says, crossing her arms. She looks terribly small, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Couple years ago," her eyes look up as she tries to remember specifics, "So, uh, junior year? I was in a relationship with a guy with a primary girlfriend."

Bucky narrows his eyebrows, "So what, you were the gal he screwed around with?"

Darcy rolls her eyes and huffs, "No, I knew his girlfriend. She was in my classes, she set us up," she stresses the words and Bucky starts to get it, "I dated the guy for six months. It was good. I just kinda liked the girlfriend a little too much, and when I proposed a change in how we organized ourselves, that ended things." she looks at her hands, rubbing her thumb against her finger, "I think I'm capable of a different sort of romantic arrangement, and it's something worth thinking about for the three of us."

Steve slumps a little bit in his chair, breathing steadily. It's been so long since Bucky has seen Steve nervous like this. Bucky turns to him and asks, "And what do you make of..." Bucky doesn't even know what to call it and settle for an expansive gesture, "This is entirely --"

"I've liked you longer than I can really remember Buck, and I thought for a while that's just how you felt about your best friend. And then by the time I realized that no, it was the same I felt for Peggy, you were gone and then so was I." Steve slowly lights up to the biggest damn smile Bucky's even seen on his face, "And then you came back. Bucky, if you don't want this, or don't want to try, that you came back will always be enough."

"It's not a condition of my friendship either," Darcy adds, "We've all got a lot to risk here. Two people have a lot of variables and don't always end well, making it three is a whole new layer of complication. But we all like each other, we all are attracted to each other and have some chemistry," when she smiles, Bucky knows she’s remembering their kiss, “I think it would make all of us happy.”

"I'm not sure," his heart is practically outside of his chest, because Jesus, what they are offering is more than what he's ever imagined, and it's terrifying. Maintaining one relationship would be difficult enough, but two? But it's Steve, whom he loves more than the world, and if Steve wants this then maybe he can have it. "If we did and it didn’t work and Steve said he wanted just the two of you, could you do that?"

"Yes," Darcy says without reservation, "Right now, before we have anything really solid, I'm with Steve." Darcy pauses, "You're worried about me aren't you?"

Darcy is the weak link in this, after all. Less history, less momentum of time, she might be their champion for this arrangement that has a great deal of appeal but she’s also the real variable. He doesn’t know her, not really.

"Date me," she says, lifting her eyebrows in a little waggle. "We haven't had a whole lot of time together. Let's go out Barnes, you and me."

Bucky's eyes dart to Steve, watching his reaction. If anything, Steve is amused.

"Look, you've had Steve in your back pocket for a long time, I wouldn't be worried about you two. Steve and I are good, we've been talking about this since that night. One more line and we've got ourselves a triangle," Darcy continues, "Will you go out with me James Barnes?"

There's a lot of life that he's missed out on, and Darcy looks at him with playful challenge and Steve is egging her on, and Bucky does not want to miss out any longer.

"How long are you in town, sweetheart?" He asks, willing the swagger that he remembers using into his voice. Steve doesn't control his laughter. Darcy just beams and starts making plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wasn't expecting to get a chapter out until after the 13th because of the show I'm hosting, but hey, free time at work. You can always follow me at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	11. Chapter 11

Bucky hasn’t been on a date in this century, but he think he remembers how, even if he’s not going to take Darcy to a soda shop on the way to the pictures. But it turns out that Darcy doesn’t really know how to date either outside of maybe going to the movies and getting lunch or dinner someplace.

“You think I have time for anything else?” Darcy says slumping down in a booth at a corner diner, “Even just that movie is a significant chunk of time. I could be grading.” she opens her eyes wide with mock seriousness, “I could be sleeping.”

“Spoken like doing nothing is a valuable thing.” Bucky says, and he smiles at the waitress who asks what they want to drink. They answer similarly, because milkshakes transcends the decades.

“It is. I don’t always have two spare minutes to rub together.”

“I have the opposite problem,” Bucky muses, “I have plenty of minutes. Just none of them close enough to rub together.”

Darcy seems to get that, or at least she tries in a way that doesn’t seem dishonest. And over a weekend of milkshakes and walks she never tries to convince Bucky about a potential arrangement, just spends the few spare moments she has with him.

“What exactly are you studying?” he asks one night, staying up into the early morning, with Darcy’s feet in his lap while she sticks post it note after color coded post it note into the books and print-outs she’s reading and leafing through. 

Darcy looks up between yellow and pink pads of paper, looking delighted, “Right now, I’m doing a broad overview of public arts funding, getting some background information. I wish I could get clearance to really dig into Asgard stuff, but well…” she blinks, “Is that even a problem for me any more? Cause I’d really like to talk public policy and arts funding on a galactic scale.”

“Because international relations are so overdone,” Bucky finds himself teasing, touching her legs, bare up to her thighs, and she’s still wearing those very short shorts he’d admired.

“No, because I have access and other people don’t. People that say information wants to be free are wrong. Information can’t want anything, it just is. It’s the people around information you gotta watch out for. Sometimes we hide things because it’s safer, and sometimes we hide because it’s easier.”

“I don’t think arts funding on Asgard is either one of those things,” Bucky says.

“No, it’s not. And it doesn’t seem terribly important at first. On the other hand, I have an alien prince who likes to steal my breakfast when I’m not looking. But the rest of the planet sees him as just tough muscles and force. They see Asgard that way, too. So let’s break it down a little bit, and humanize the aliens.” Darcy speaks with sheer animation in every gesture and then realizes just how much she’s been moving around and settles back, a little embarrassed. It’s hard to show your passions out loud for the first time. 

Bucky has seen Darcy with Steve, with her friends, but it’s nothing to seeing her alight with a carefully guarded naivete. She knows that there are things better left unsaid, she’s sharing space with one right now, but Darcy doesn’t want to shove everything back into the closet. 

“Sometimes though, we don’t get a choice about our information,” he adds.

“You aren’t wrong,” she answers, “So we just have to make do with what we’ve managed to save for ourselves.” 

He learns about Darcy on their dates, but he kisses Steve again first. He drove Darcy back down to Culver, to her rinky-dink duplex, and held her close. But right now, she’s still Steve’s girl so he doesn’t kiss her, even though she licks her lips and Bucky knows that’s a signal. So maybe being around Steve so much is rubbing off on him, but it doesn’t seem decent to take that step without talking to Steve first.

Darcy, at least, seems amused by this, and just wordlessly combs a few fingers through his hair and holds the cold metal of his hand in hers, letting her body heat warm it. She doesn’t reach over and kiss his cheek when he leaves, just smiles and says, “Give me a call, yeah?”

Darcy may live and breathe by text messaging, but she loves hearing their voices most of all. She called herself a throwback in jest on their drive down, and Bucky had nearly stopped in the middle of the highway in laughter.

The drive back is lonely, with only the radio to keep him company, and not either one of the two people he’s been finding he can’t stand to be without. He drives with focus, cautiously speeds when he can and he’s back home sooner than he should be. And there’s Steve.

“You get her situated?” Steve asks, as if Bucky hadn’t just taken that last opportunity that Steve and Darcy had to be with each other before Darcy has to go into hermit mode to do some work.

“Yeah, I did. Some day that shithold is going to fall in on itself, though.”

“I keep telling her that,” Steve says, “But she loves the place. She has a thing about the broken.” Steve touches him. It’s casual, nothing more than a bump on the arm, nothing more than friendly. But it warms him in all the same ways Darcy’s touch did and he kisses Steve.

This time, it’s not a surprise how their lips fit together, or how hungry they are for each other. If he had really thought about this when they were young, maybe Bucky would be shocked at Steve’s strength and his big hands, but he isn’t. This is the Steve he’s kissed before, the Steve that draws him close and Bucky doesn’t have to treat with kid gloves.

He could wonder why he doesn’t feel the same reservation about kissing Steve that he felt about potentially kissing Darcy, but honestly, right now he doesn’t care. Their first kiss was hot, but this one is sweet and enthralling, slowly growing to be all-encompassing. Bucky drags his nails against the back of Steve’s neck and deepens the kiss, sweeps his tongue past Steve’s lips and lets whatever happens next to just happen. He will always have this.

This is what he can keep for himself. It’s the middle of the best kiss of his life and he wants Darcy there.

Steve pulls away first and the weight of his hands keeps Bucky from feeling too disappointed, right up until he sees how Steve looks at him. Deeply rooted want pours from every bit of him, and Bucky starts laughing, because the man also holds himself back. Like he’s waiting for a fight, hoping the other guy walks away first.

“So what do we do now?” Bucky asks, ready to follow Steve’s lead.

“You want to make a go of all three of us?” Steve says and Bucky nods. This might not work, and he’s scared of what will happen if fails, but ready to try. “Then we call Darcy, figure out when we’re all free and we talk.

Steve beams brightly, looking as young as they actually are and kisses Bucky again. They don’t miss a step of contact as they make their way to the nearest cell phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always you can find me at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com) where I generally have a lot of feels about Bucky Barnes. And a lot of other things.


	12. Chapter 12

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Darcy doesn’t meet them at her door, she’s walking up the sidewalk at the same time that Bucky and Steve shut the car doors across the street. Even her hair looks tired, pulled back in a hasty ponytail and her backpack hanging from one hand, her keys in the other. Serves them right for coming down to Culver on a weekday, but Darcy manages a big smile. “Wasn’t expecting you two for a couple more days.”

They hit the porch at the same time, Darcy hands off her bag to Steve while she unlocks the door. “Unexpected free time,” Steve answers.

“What, you canceled training to visit your girl?” Darcy teases.

“Our girl?” Bucky hesitantly ventures. He may have pressed Steve into visiting sooner rather than later after the three of them had a hasty skype conversation that amounted to Darcy telling them to enjoy themselves, but not too much until they could be all in person. It was a feat of strength to make it even just a few days.

Darcy kisses him, and it’s wonderful. Whatever weight she’s carrying from school or working, she drops to kiss him. It comes in stages, a light press of her lips against his, and then the press of her body, and he bends his knees for better leverage and opens his mouth to deepen the kiss.

It’s not the electric shock that kissing Steve is. There’s not a lifetime of worn and weary longing behind this kiss, but the way it is familiar, a woman’s curves and the smooth skin of her face is an intoxicating as the first time he kissed a girl. Darcy’s hands slide into his back pockets and gropes.

“Oh thank fuck, I was getting tired of being so damn patient James Barnes,” Darcy says into his ear. Bucky gets an eyeful of Steve, who doesn’t look out of place at all, watching his girlfriend and his best friend getting handsy with each other, not a damn bit at all. Unless you count the slightly glassy and interested cast to his eyes, or the way there are fresh marks where he’s bit his lips. “And you!” Darcy turns to Steve, “Get over here!”

There’s quick kisses all around, and the mood lifts from a little apprehensive to downright joyful. The distance of care that they had all been giving each other -- well it wouldn’t be right to say it’s dissipated, but it’s mutable now. It’s something they can change.

“So how does this work now?” Bucky asks.

“We trust each other,” Darcy says, “we talk, we fight, we enjoy being with each other. As honest as we can be,” There are things between all of them that are better left unsaid, secrets and lies that help them sleep. Someday they will all come clean, but for now, they can start working on sleeping through the night.

Bucky finds both of their hands, Steve’s sturdy weight, the slight and sureness of Darcy’s, and reels them both in. Darcy’s delighted shriek carries over the sound of his arm moving and articulating. And if he’s grinning like the cat that caught the canary, it’s because he’s a little giddy with this, how he has both of them pressed against him.

“You’ve been a tease, Buck,” Steve says to him, low and serious, his breath curling across Bucky’s ear, “Kissing like you mean it all these past few days, knowing I couldn’t really do anything about it.” 

Darcy nips at the crook of his neck, “That was my fault, I was being cautious,” her free hand plays with the hem of his shirt, “I couldn’t take that risk without….” she trails off, her mouth tracing his collarbone. Bucky leans his head back and arcs towards Steve.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says, eyes closing as he chases Steve’s lips like a ghost, “I wasn’t ready to listen yet.” 

“Can we get over listening and get to screwing around already, asshole?” Steve says and straight away covers Bucky’s mouth, grabs his shirt by the collar and drags all three of them up the stairs. Darcy laughs and laughs, holding on to Bucky’s left hand like a lifeline.

“I am completely down for that.”

“That better not be the only thing you are down for,” Darcy mock grumbles as they take the stairs, “You and I have a little catching up to do.” 

The bedroom is lit by the hot sun, and Darcy’s air conditioner doesn’t work all that well, so it’s only expedient that they strip quickly, clothes landing in heaps across the room. Bucky really does have an embarrassment of riches in this company. The promise that Darcy’s oversized shirts and undersized shorts is more than true, lush in all the right places. He sits on her bed, her rumpled sheets and reaches for her again, and she climbs into his lap.

“Gentle at first,” Steve slips behind him, locks his arms and fingers with his, and brings them both to cup Darcy’s breasts, “We’ve got more strength than we know sometimes.”

“Just gotta warm me up,” Darcy leans in and he kisses first her this time, breaching her lips with his tongue. He still remembers how to warm a woman up, it seems. He shakes one hand loose from Steve’s and wraps it around Darcy’s back to keep her close. For a woman with tremendous curves, she’s so small, his fingers reach her hips. He won’t leave bruises.

Steve’s hard against his back, and that’s going to drive him as crazy as the woman in his lap. His light stubble drags on his shoulder while Steve kisses and runs his free hand over Bucky’s waist. 

“Jesus,” he gasps when Steve dips just a little bit lower and takes his dick in hand. Bucky drops his head against Steve, swallowing hard, “Hey, believe it or not this is a new situation for me….”

Steve agrees with him, even while stroking his length. Darcy watches, her lips glossy and wet, and Bucky thinks he understands his problem here. He doesn’t know what to do first. Doesn’t know whether to lay back and enjoy what his good luck has brought him or to take a more proactive role.

It’s answered for him, Steve tipping him over and Darcy follows, and all three of them are a mess of limbs and groping hands and sloppy wet kisses, everyone all smiles. It’s gloriously happy, and Bucky somehow winds up on the bottom of the heap when things start to solidify towards something less haphazard and more focused. 

Steve had been lying across Bucky at some point, almost lazily grinding against Bucky’s stomach while plunging his fingers into Darcy. When Steve sits up and slings himself over Bucky’s thighs and takes both of their cocks in his hand his fingers are slick and hot from Darcy.

Bucky is filled with a need for a taste of that wetness and it only grows wilder as Steve strokes them off, “Come ‘ere, come ‘ere,” he tries to be smooth, but the words trip out of his mouth, and he ends up just pulling Darcy on top of him. She squirms and she moans and he holds her in place as she rides his tongue and his lips. Bucky doesn’t bother to keep himself quiet; and every sound that he makes is muffled by her pussy, and she sometimes shivers with the vibration.

He comes first, and its not even the sort of orgasm that sneaks up on you. No, he could feel it building and then, all it took was Steve’s strong muscles twitching against his and he was done for. Bucky can’t see Steve, but he feels his cock jerk against his own and fucking recognizes the sounds he makes. He politely ignored it back in the war, sleeping beside him on the ground, but now he’s vested in making him groan like that as often as possible, and he can do that.

Darcy pulls at his hair, he hasn’t forgotten about her, how could he? Darcy is a sharp and tangy and wet on his tongue, falling apart rapidly. Her body trembles, and she whimpers and Steve is there, keeping her upright. He moans at the loss of her hands in his hair, but she hooks one around Steve’s shoulders and one grips where the flesh and metal meet. She’s bracing herself on the two of them, so she doesn’t just drop her weight on him as she starts to freeze up and tremble through her own orgasm.

He could get used to this. Even covered in sweat on a sticky summer afternoon, he still wants more of this. It’s not a cure, it’s not even a treatment for the mess-up third chance of life that he struggles to maintain, but he’s not going to have to face it alone. He can’t fuck this up. Steve will always be with him, Darcy can keep him honest and talking, and he’ll find just what he has to offer them both to keep this strong. So for now, he dozes off between them and finds a place to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh good lord I finished it. I finished this wonderful thing. Thank you so much for reading, everyone. It's been a blast. As always, you can find me at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com) where I seem to have picked up a mild Sebastian Stan problem.
> 
> It's the eyeliner. It's always done me in.
> 
> Thank you all again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be honest, I'm kind of posting this as an experiment. I don't do too many wips that I don't have a strong concrete plan for, but I'm testing different ways of writing at the moment. So an ot3 fic gets my by the seat of my pants writing style.
> 
> And once again, this is meri's fault. This began life as a prompt from her: Steve/Darcy- Steve loses a bet with Bucky.


End file.
